


Sex, Yeah

by leontina (Leontina)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M, Pining, Roommates, Scheming, Sex God
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-25
Updated: 2016-07-25
Packaged: 2018-07-26 11:53:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7573105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leontina/pseuds/leontina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Draco has been in love with Harry for years, but Harry has always been dating someone else. So when Draco overhears Harry after his latest break up suggesting he wants to date a sex god, Draco knows what he has to get Harry to think about him he can ask Harry out. Only he needs to get creative, because he doesn’t want to sleep with anyone who isn’t Harry.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sex, Yeah

**Author's Note:**

  * For [oceaxe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/oceaxe/gifts).



> This was written for the HD Tropes fest over on Livejournal, as a gift for Oceaxe. My assigned trope was ‘sex god’.
> 
> Title comes from the song of the same name by Marina and the Diamonds.

***

It had been a long day in the office, and all Draco wanted to do when he got home was have a nice, long bath with vanilla scented candles and a glass—scratch that, a bottle—of red wine. 

However, when he opened the door to his flat and spotted his roommate Harry Potter crying on the sofa while he watched that Muggle telly-box, Draco knew that his plans for the evening were ruined. He cleared his throat so Harry could gather himself a bit of dignity, and Harry dutifully swiped his eyes angrily in response to the noise.

“Draco!” Harry exclaimed, turning to face Draco and giving him a watery smile. Harry’s eyes were red and bloodshot, and his cheeks were blotchy, but that smile still managed to give Draco butterflies in his stomach. “Have you noticed how dusty this apartment is? My eyes are stinging so bad.”

“Oh?” Draco hummed. “Not particularly.” 

He eyed the empty ice cream carton on the coffee table, alongside the also empty box of Valentine’s chocolates that Harry’s boyfriend Oliver had bought for him. The garishly pink, heart-shaped lid to the box was torn and crumpled, and looked like it had been tossed to the floor in disgust or anger.

After moving in with Harry after Draco’s previous flatmate Pansy kicked him out so her new boyfriend Ron Weasley—Harry’s old flatmate—could move in, Draco and Harry had managed to get a strong sort of friendship going between them. That didn’t mean Draco wanted to hear all about Harry’s oh-so-wonderful, professional Quidditch playing boyfriend. 

Unless, of course, it gave Draco an excuse to badmouth him.

“Oliver being a problem?” he asked Harry innocently.

The smile slid off Harry’s face, his eyes becoming watery once more. “We broke up,” he said quietly, turning away from Draco to stare at the telly.

Which was a good thing, otherwise Harry would have seen the massive smile that Draco couldn’t stop.

“Oh yeah?” Draco asked, and after realising he sounded a bit too happy he lowered his tone and repeated, “Aww, yeah?”

“He said he wanted to concentrate on his games and didn’t have time for a relationship,” Harry murmured, wrapping his arms around himself. “And then he Floo-called me later apologising about tomorrow’s _Prophet_ , which apparently has photos of him kissing one of his teammates. Oh, and Oliver swears it was a one-off thing and it had nothing to do with me. As if! Why can’t I seem to hold down a relationship, Draco?”

Harry’s voice was so small and sad, Draco’s glee at hearing Oliver was out of the picture became temporarily dimmed.

“That’s nothing to do with you,” Draco said reassuringly, sliding onto the cushion beside Harry. “You’ve just dated some weirdos and arseholes over the years, that’s all.”

“Ginny and Charlie weren’t either of those things,” Harry argued, though he didn’t bother to mention Mandy Brocklehurst’s name, which was a given considering she had cheated on Harry almost the entire course of their five month relationship. 

“Ginny is too Weasley, and Charlie isn’t so bad as Weasleys go, I suppose, but he had too much of a thing for dragons,” Draco retorted smoothly. “Besides, all of the people you’ve dated chose something or someone else over you, which makes them all idiots for giving you up. I mean,” he quickly added, in case Harry caught onto him, “dating the Boy-Who-Lived is a goal for most people our age.”

Harry snorted, wiping his eyes again. “I can’t be much of a goal once I’m caught then, can I?”

“Or maybe you need to date better people,” Draco said, leaning back on the sofa and resting his arms on the top. “Go for someone less terrible.”

“Yeah?” Harry said, looking at Draco with a raised brow. “Like who?” His voice was happier, though, and his eyes were beginning to look less like those of a lost puppy.

“Well I think we’ve established that redheads and brunettes are a no-go,” Draco answered, giving Harry a wink. Hmm, how else would Draco describe himself? “You need someone who’s witty and confident; somebody outgoing. Somebody rich is good so you know they’re not using you for your money. Somebody who likes flying but who isn’t obsessed with it—avoid anyone with weird obsessions, really. And make sure they’re stylish, because you haven’t yet dated anyone with style.”

“That’s pretty specific,” Harry said, a small smile teasing the corners of the lips.

Draco shrugged. “I don’t make the rules. If you want to be happy then that’s the kind of person you need. Oh yeah, whoever you pick has to treasure you and think the world of you. Someone out there does, trust me.”

And maybe that person was closer than Harry knew.

And scratch the maybe.

Harry leaned back into Draco’s arm and rested his head on Draco’s shoulder.

“Did you know that when you’re nice you’re _really_ nice?” Harry murmured, nuzzling Draco’s chin with his hair.

“Don’t let word get out, Potter; I have a reputation to maintain.”

***

Draco approached the table where Pansy, Millicent, and Luna were sat, holding a bottle of wine in his hands.

“Hello ladies,” he said smoothly. “Compliments of the devilishly handsome gentleman from the bar.”

Pansy raised a perfectly groomed brow. “Weren’t you the only one up there?”

“That’s what I just said,” Draco replied, giving Pansy an innocent smile.

He slid into the chair next to Pansy and opposite Luna. When Millicent had announced that she was dating Luna Lovegood, all of her friends had scoffed and said it would never last—and here they were now, a year and a half later, irritatingly happy and adorable together. 

Not that Draco was jealous or anything. 

“Wine?” Millicent questioned, giving Draco a sly smirk. “I thought you’d have got champagne, given the occasion.”

“What could I possibly have to celebrate?” Draco asked, not enjoying the knowing looks that his friends were giving him. 

“Well let’s just say that you don’t look too torn up about the fact that Oliver and Harry have broken up,” Pansy said softly, keeping smoky eyes fixed on Draco as she awaited his reaction. 

It was no secret to Draco’s friends that he was in love with Harry, despite his best attempts to keep it a secret—his friends were too nosy for their own good, apparently. But still, that didn’t mean he had to play along with their teasing.

“I never liked Oliver, admittedly, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to celebrate Harry’s heartache.” 

At least he wasn’t going to celebrate outwardly, because that would make him look like an arsehole—but Draco would be lying to himself if he denied he was very pleased about the situation.

“So are you going to ask Harry out now?” Luna piped up. “I think you should; you and Harry would make a lovely couple.”

“No,” Draco answered quickly. “Why would I want to ask him out?”

Denying his crush on Harry to most of his male friends worked fine, even if they did look at him disbelievingly, but Pansy and Millicent never let anything go if they had a good hold on it.

“Do I need to remind you of the incident in fifth year?” Pansy asked sweetly.

Draco had been reminded of the incident _many_ times over the years. “Pansy, I really don’t-”

“When I thought that you and I were deeply in love and would be together forever,” Pansy pressed on, evidently not caring if Draco didn’t want to hear the story of his most shameful teenage moment again. “And then came the day when we made sweet love for the first time, and I thought it was the most wonderful thing until you called out Harry _freaking_ Potter’s name while you were fucking me.”

“I already apologised for using you to figure out my sexuality,” Draco said through gritted teeth, shooting a glare at the old woman who was looking at their table disapprovingly.

“And I forgave you for that brutal heartache,” Pansy nodded. “But didn’t I swear then that I’d help you get the boy you wanted? Even after all these years—six years of watching you pine over someone and not doing anything about it—didn’t I promise that I wouldn’t rest until Harry was yours?”

Draco really wasn’t in a position to argue with Pansy now, unless he wanted to hear more about how much he crushed her teenage self.

“But we’re friends now,” Draco reasoned. “If I ask him out he might say no and then our friendship would be ruined and I wouldn’t get to see him at all. Plus I don’t like people saying no to me.”

“Mummy and daddy’s spoiling really worked out for you, didn’t it?” Millicent teased.

Draco ignored her. “Besides, Harry’s only just single. I have time to do a bit of work to make sure Harry says yes before I ask him out.”

Luna tutted. “You and I both know that isn’t true, Draco.”

“He’s a real relationship slut,” Millicent agreed.

“Harry likes to feel loved and wanted,” Luna continued after giving an amused smile to her girlfriend. “Once people start showing him affection, he falls, even if that person is no good for him.”

“She’s right, you know,” Pansy added. “Harry’s a _celebrity_. Which means very soon there’s going to be jerks lining the streets trying to get into his bed. You’re a bit of a prick, but you’re not a jerk, and Harry can handle a prick.”

“Really, Pansy?” Draco deadpanned, raising a brow as Pansy winked at him. “Alright, fine, maybe I have less time than I anticipated.”

“Every moment counts now,” Pansy said seriously. “The second you get home, I want you plotting, understand? That’s a good boy. I’ll try and get Ron to tell Harry how much he likes you now, as well.”

“Weasley would really do that?” Draco asked doubtfully.

Pansy gave him a sly smile. “There are certain _things_ I’ve been denying him simply so I can get something I want when I pretend to cave. I hope you appreciate me giving one up for you.”

“Draco, I hope you appreciate that we _all_ had to listen to that awful information,” Millicent said dryly. 

“Go get him, champ,” Luna added with a smile.

Draco idly wondered if it was time he got himself some new friends.

***

Draco took a deep breath as he stopped outside the door to the flat, inhaling the sweet scent of cookies baking. Harry loved to bake whenever he got time, and the scent of baked goods was something that Draco now associated with Harry.

He opened the door and immediately caught sight of Granger’s bag on the wall hook. They evidently hadn’t heard Draco come in, as they were chatting loudly in the kitchen.

“The Harpies are playing Puddlemere this weekend,” Draco heard Granger say to Harry. “Ginny’s promised that she and her team will make sure Oliver has to work extra hard if he wants to save any goals.”

“Up against Ginny he stands no chance anyway,” Harry replied, and Draco was pleased to hear the lightness in his voice. 

Honestly, Oliver Wood was a bit of an idiot, and his eyes were far too wide apart—Harry was much better off without him, and Draco was glad Harry seemed to be seeing that already.

“I’m sorry it came to this, though,” Granger said gently. “I’d hoped Oliver might have been the one for you.”

“I did, too,” Harry answered. “But the more I think about it, the more I can see why we didn’t work out. He just wasn’t what I wanted, and our interests were so different outside of Quidditch. I mean, is it really so hard to find a guy who knows how to use a beater?”

Draco couldn’t help but splutter in his shock at hearing Harry’s graphic—though rather immature—words, which of course ended the dirt on Oliver as Harry called out, “Draco?”

“Yeah, it’s me,” Draco called back, cursing himself for ruining the perfect eavesdropping opportunity to find out what Harry was after in a partner. “Hi, Granger.”

Harry and Granger both came into the living room, Harry carrying a plate of cookies which he promptly thrust at Draco.

“I went a little overboard on the baking,” he said with a grin. “You can eat them all yourself in your room alone in the middle of the night, or share them with your friends, I don’t mind.” 

“I’ll share them,” Draco lied, knowing full well he couldn’t resist Harry’s baking. 

“How are you, Draco?” Granger asked, always annoyingly more friendly to him than he was to her. It was probably just to make him look bad.

“I’m wonderful,” Draco answered, dropping onto the sofa gracefully. “I take it you’re here to stop Harry breaking out in sad Muggle songs and crying.”

“That time you caught me doing that was the only time it happened, I swear!” Harry huffed, dropping onto the cushion beside Draco.

“What song did you catch him singing?” Granger asked teasingly, stealing a cookie off Draco’s plate.

“ _All by Myself_ , I think it was,” Draco answered with a sly grin.

“One time!” Harry repeated with a cry.

Draco made polite conversation with Granger until she left, before he turned the conversation back to Oliver. 

“So I couldn’t help but overhear you and Granger gossiping about Oliver as I arrived,” Draco said casually. “Got any dirty details for me?”

“Oh, no, I was just complaining,” Harry answered with a small laugh, shaking his head. “Honestly, I just want to forget him and think about the future.”

“So,” Draco said slowly. “You think you want someone...opposite...to Oliver?”

Harry shrugged. “I guess. Things failed with Oliver so maybe I do need to find someone who _isn’t_ like him, like you said before. He had his flaws, so I know what to avoid now, maybe. I don’t know.”

It wasn’t quite what Draco was after, but he was enlightened enough. Harry wanted somebody who was good in the sack, but was too embarrassed to admit it to Draco; why else would he be talking so vaguely? Or using the word _beater_ in place of cock or something, for that matter?

If Harry wanted a sex god, then Draco was going to be a sex god. 

The problem was trying to prove his sex godliness to Harry, when Draco had sworn years ago that he wasn’t going to sleep with anyone apart from Harry, unless Harry got married and taken officially off the market. 

Draco wasn’t planning on breaking that promise, so he was going to have to get _creative_. 

***

“Quickly, come inside,” Draco said, ushering the man into the apartment. 

He was probably only a year younger than Draco at the most, looking to be around twenty, and had wavy, sandy hair that fell to his slim shoulders. The boy’s eyes were a bright blue colour, and he would almost be attractive to Draco if he didn’t have such strong competition in Harry.

“Nice place,” the boy—Mikey, Matt, something beginning with M—said cheerfully. “I can’t wait to see the bedroom.”

Draco rolled his eyes. “This way,” he directed, hurrying him along to his bedroom.

The door closed behind them with a click, and then Martin’s hand was stroking Draco’s arm. “Shall we lay down and relax, baby?”

Draco shook Mitch’s hand off him violently. “Don’t touch me!” he snapped, and Mark’s perky demeanour changed instantly, his face souring. 

“You’re one of those, are you?” Max huffed. “Fine. How do you want me? Bent over the bed?”

Malcolm began lowering his ridiculously tight jeans, and Draco hissed, covering his eyes with his hand.

“Stop it!” Draco shouted. “I don’t want you any way. Keep your clothes on.”

When Draco deemed it safe enough to uncover his eyes, he wasn’t pleased to see the pitying expression on Milo’s face. 

“Oh, honey,” Micah crooned. “You do know what a rentboy is, don’t you?”

“Of course I know what a rentboy is!” Draco snapped. “That’s why I hired you.”

“You know you hire me for _sex_ though, yeah? Not just chores or shit.”

Draco took a deep breath and counted to ten in his head. It wouldn’t be good to hex a Muggle, no matter how infuriating they were.

“I’m not an idiot, Melvin,” Draco said.

“Morgan,” the boy corrected.

“I’m not an idiot, Morgan,” Draco repeated. “I know what a rentboy is, and I know your speciality is sex. I’m just waiting until my roommate gets home.”

“I charge double if you want someone else involved,” Morgan said lazily, picking at his nails. “Is your roommate as, er, _quirky_ as you?”

“He’s a lot weirder than me, actually,” Draco answered defensively. “But that isn’t important. Look, Moses-”

“Morgan.”

“Morgan,” Draco hissed. “Neither of us are going to have sex with you. When my roommate gets home you are going to start moaning and shouting as though you’re having the best sex of your life, but I’m not actually going to touch you.”

Morgan blinked several times. “So you’re paying me to pretend to have sex with you for your roommate to overhear? Did he piss you off, or are you trying to make him jealous?”

“The last one,” Draco nodded. “He wants to date someone who’s good at sex. I want to make him think that _I’m_ good at sex, but I don’t actually plan on sleeping with anyone apart from him.”

Morgan rolled his eyes. “You rich people really don’t know what to do with your money, do you? Why not just ask him out to dinner or something?”

“Because being rich means I’m allowed to be eccentric,” Draco stated firmly. “He should be home any minute, so get on the bed and move around so it sounds realistic, too. Scream my name a few times, too—it’s Draco.”

“Of course it’s something weird,” Morgan muttered. “Let’s hope I don’t forget it and scream out _David_.”

“You won’t because I’m paying you,” Draco said sharply.

“You’re right,” Morgan agreed. “Because I’m a hard worker who does what the client wants, even if he is a bit of a prick. Oh, how big do you want me to scream your prick is? I don’t want to shout about how big it is if you actually have a microdick and that’s the reason you won’t shag anyone.”

“I don’t have a microdick!” Draco defended hotly. “I am adequately endowed; I’m slightly over the average length, I’ll have you know.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” Morgan said dismissively with a wave of his hand. “You know, weirdness aside, this is probably the easiest money I’ve made. My mates will be so jealous when I tell them.”

“Your mates may get a turn,” Draco said, glancing at the watch that Harry had bought for him last Christmas. For convenience, Harry had said. “I hear the door! Okay, when we’re done I want you to walk out of the apartment in a pleasured daze, and I’ll follow you and pay you in the hallway.”

To Morgan’s credit, Draco felt like an intruder to a private moment as he watched Morgan writhe on the bed, moaning and groaning without even touching himself. 

Draco could hear Harry moving softer than normal in the other rooms, and felt satisfied that Harry could hear what was going on. A couple more times and Harry should get the picture that Draco was a sex god. 

And sure, Draco wasn’t _really_ a sex god considering he was a gay man who’d only ever had sex the once with a girl when they were teenagers, but Draco was pretty confident sex was the sort of thing he’d be good at. 

“Let’s start wrapping things up,” Draco whispered, and he tried not to show Morgan how impressed he was with his fake orgasm noises.

“Good, good,” Draco nodded. “Now let’s give it five minutes and then we leave, alright?”

Harry was in the living room when Draco and Morgan walked through, and he froze at the sight of them, which Draco tried not to look pleased about. He pretended to avoid Harry’s gaze as he steered Morgan out, who was rambling about how fantastic Draco had been.

“You did a good job,” Draco said once they were in the hallway and the front door was safely shut. 

“Your roommate’s a cute one,” Morgan stated with an amused smile. “If you change your mind about that threesome then let me know. I won’t even charge you double.”

“Why would I want a threesome? That would defeat the whole point of this,” Draco answered with a scowl. He fished around in his pockets for the Muggle money he’d converted, and held it out for Morgan to take. “Here, thank you.”

Morgan began to move, but hesitated for a moment. “You know, he looked super jealous. I don’t think you need to be doing this elaborate scheme to get him to go out with you.”

“I don’t need advice from you; you’ve done your job,” Draco muttered. “Now go and buy yourself something nice, like some better fitting jeans.”

Morgan rolled his eyes one last time. “Nice pretending to be fucked by you, you odd, odd person.”

Draco’s scowl continued as he watched Morgan leave down the hallway. Damn Muggles. It would be too risky to hire a wizard rentboy, though, considering he’d recognise Harry and word of Draco’s scheme would easily get out. 

Returning to the flat, Draco saw Harry sat on the sofa, and when Harry turned to look at Draco his cheeks were a bright pink.

“I’m so sorry about that,” Draco murmured, burying his face in his hands and feigning embarrassment. “I didn’t expect you home; I must have lost track of time.”

“It’s, uh, fine, you know,” Harry said, offering Draco a small and strained smile. “I know you caught me and Oliver a few times in compromising positions. I just didn’t expect you to, you know…”

“Yes, well, it’s something I do,” Draco replied, settling himself down next to Harry. “Not often, mind you, and normally I go back to theirs, but it just worked out differently this time.”

His next words had been very carefully orchestrated, because even though he wanted Harry to know he was—potentially—good in bed, he didn’t want Harry getting the wrong idea either.

“It’s just to blow off a bit of steam, and I go with Muggles because we can both avoid awkward interactions afterwards,” Draco said as he leaned back in his chair. “I’d really like a proper relationship, though, with a wizard; that’s what’s really important to me.”

“Oh, I’m sure you’ll find someone,” Harry said brightly, patting Draco’s knee. “I hear that Oliver Wood is single now.”

Draco laughed, and ran a hand through his hair. “No, thank you. At least I know there’s two single celebrities on the market now.”

It was bold for Draco, and he caught Harry’s eye for a moment before they both looked away. Draco was sure the pink tinge on Harry’s cheeks must have been left over from his embarrassed blush before.

“So,” Draco said, quickly changing the subject. “How badly did the Harpies thrash Puddlemere?”

***

“Let me help you reach that,” Draco murmured, pressing the length of his body against Harry’s as he reached for the tin of soup on the top shelf.

“I could have done it myself,” Harry said hotly, turning around to give Draco a pointed look. “We’re the same height, you know.”

“Actually,” Draco smirked. “Remember when we cast that spell to see what our heights were? I’m exactly a quarter of an inch taller than you.”

“I don’t think a quarter of an inch counts,” Harry retorted, his bottom lip jutting out ever so slightly. 

“Oh, every inch counts,” Draco answered, giving Harry a wink.

Harry’s cheeks flushed, and he promptly turned his attention to the shopping list in his hands. 

If Draco didn’t know better, he’d say his flirting with Harry seemed to be working. That, combined with Draco’s theatrical performance at being a sex god, hopefully meant that Harry would say yes to Draco’s date request after a little more work on Draco’s end.

Draco had even come to the Muggle supermarket with Harry to prove how much he wanted to spend time with him, despite the fact that he really hated Muggle shops.

“We need more pasta,” Harry murmured as he read the list aloud. “We really ought to learn how to cook other food. Maybe we should go to a cooking class together.”

“Or get a house-elf,” Draco muttered, before quickly adding on a brighter note. “But a cooking class could be fun, too. As long as I can mock the instructor a little bit.”

“I wouldn’t expect anything less from you,” Harry said with a teasing smile which sent butterflies through Draco’s stomach.

“What else do we need?” Draco asked, making a quick attempt to change the subject. “Can we get some of those gingerbread men? Muggles are so strange, making their food shaped like other humans. Do you remember that horror story you told me about that gingerbread man getting chased until he was finally caught and eaten?”

“It’s a fairy tale, not a horror story,” Harry said with an amused shake of his head. “Pretty brutal, I guess, but it’s meant for children.”

“Weird children, no doubt,” Draco said wisely. “Hey, if you’re so tall why don’t you reach me that chocolate cereal from the top shelf.”

Draco didn’t need chocolate cereal, but any excuse to get a good glimpse of Harry’s arse. 

***

The way the rentboy was screaming Draco’s name in pleasure had Draco quite satisfied with his performance.

Not that the rentboy was screaming about Draco’s new high score on the Muggle Tetris game that Harry had gotten him obsessed with, but someone else really ought to celebrate that.

Draco put down the game device and signalled for the rentboy to end his performance. 

“You were great, Draco,” the rentboy said, giving Draco a wink.

“Say it in the hallway, will you?”

As Draco sent his latest rentboy on his way, he took a deep breath before returning to the flat.

Things seemed to be going well, in Draco’s opinion. He wasn’t going overboard with the rentboys because he didn’t want Harry to think that he was insatiable and obsessed with sex, but at the same time he’d had enough that by now Harry ought to think that Draco was great in bed. That, coupled with the extra flirting Draco had been doing lately, would hopefully mean Harry would say yes when Draco asked him out in a few days. 

Draco just wanted to get himself prepared first. He wanted to get his hair cut and his eyebrows groomed, and maybe get a new outfit. He was going to look absolutely irresistible, especially with a box of Harry’s favourite chocolates in his hands. He’d take Harry to his favourite Muggle restaurant so that they wouldn’t be disturbed by people recognising Harry, and then they’d go stargazing in Longbottom’s private garden which Luna was going to get Draco access to. It was all going to be perfect.

Draco didn’t count on returning to the flat and seeing Harry laughing as he chatted on the Muggle telephone. 

“Okay, see you soon,” Harry was saying with a smile on his face. “I’m looking forward to it.”

“Who was that?” Draco asked sharply as Harry hung up.

“Just someone I’ve been on a couple of dates with. We’re meeting again tomorrow,” Harry answered, and Draco felt his stomach clench uncomfortably. 

“Oh?” Draco said coldly, unable to help himself, and the smile on Harry’s face wavered. “Who with?”

“Er, this guy. You wouldn’t know him; he’s a Muggle-born a little bit older than us from, er, Australia. Yeah, Australia. Hermione knew him from when she went over there to see her parents. Have you ever been to Australia? It’s nice. Do you want a drink? I want a drink.”

Draco really hoped Harry was rambling because he felt guilty. Draco had been working hard, dammit, and he wasn’t going to let some strange, Granger-approved bloke sweep in and ruin everything.

“His name?” Draco asked, forcing himself to smile. 

“Er, Sydney...Perth,” Harry said, tilting his head slightly.

“You’re dating an Australian who’s named after two Australian cities?” Draco frowned. What a ridiculous sounding man.

“Yes, is that so weird?” Harry retorted hotly. “Why does it matter if I’m dating him anyway? You don’t seem to have a lack of partners at the moment.”

“I don’t have a problem with it,” Draco lied quickly. “And those men I’m with aren’t anyone important. I told you I’d like a proper relationship instead of one-offs. Maybe I’ll go out and date a Spanish man called Barcelona Madrid.”

He couldn’t help himself from being mad. What if this Sydney bloke ended up being amazing and Draco had missed out on a relationship with Harry by just a few days? How did you learn to stop loving someone you almost had a chance with? 

“Why are you being an arse about this?” Harry scowled, folding his arms across his chest. “Sydney Perth is a nice man. I’m going to my room.”

Draco let out a huff, glaring at nothing in particular as he was left alone in the living room. But after half an hour had passed in silence, Draco realised that sulking wasn’t going to get Harry to fall in love with him—he just had to prove himself better than Sydney _fucking_ Perth. At least Draco had a decent name.

So with a deep breath, Draco forced himself to go to the Muggle supermarket to buy some food. His cooking skills were limited to easy pasta dishes, but he’d caught glimpses of different recipes from the cooking shows that Harry watched sometimes on the telly. Draco didn’t know why Muggles liked to watch other Muggles cook, but at least Draco had got some ideas from it. 

Chopping up some onions, peppers, and chicken, and putting them on to cook, Draco grabbed the jar of chili sauce to heat up, too. He poured some rice into another pot, and let everything bubble away until it was ready. He put the chicken, peppers, onions, and sauce mixture onto some flat tortilla wraps and rolled them up, serving them next to the rice.

Sure, it didn’t look quite like the ones Draco had seen the Muggles cook, but it was something other than pasta. Hopefully that would show Harry that Draco could actually be considerate. 

Setting his own plate on the table, Draco grabbed the other one and took it with him to knock on Harry’s door. 

“Harry,” Draco called. “I cooked dinner.”

The door creaked open, and Harry’s eyes widened as he took in the sight of the plate. “That’s not pasta,” he observed.

“It’s not,” Draco agreed. “I guess I was a little bit _rude_ about your date, so I thought I’d cook for you to make up for it.”

“From you I’ll take that as an apology,” Harry smiled, taking the plate off Draco and joining him at the table. “This is actually really good,” he added after a couple of bites.

“What do you mean _actually_ good?” Draco teased. “I’ll have you know I am a man of many talents.”

“I’d say,” Harry muttered, catching Draco’s eye and looking away as his cheeks flushed. “I mean, er, the cooking and your...gentlemen callers.”

Draco couldn’t hold back the smug smile at knowing Harry had noticed. Sex god status achieved. Now all Draco had to do was chase off this Sydney fellow, preferably in a way that made him look like an arsehole to Harry.

“Hey, how about you invite Sydney to Luna and Millicent’s party this weekend?” Draco suggested innocently, picking at one of his nails idly. 

“Oh, that’s not really his scene,” Harry answered quickly. “He’s not big on parties.”

“Sounds boring,” Draco said. “How can you not like parties? It’s only a small one. I thought he’d have wanted to see Granger too if they know each other.”

“Yeah, but-”

“And I’d like to meet him,” Draco continued, going in for the win. “Unless, of course, you don’t want him to meet me.”

“No, no! Of course not!” Harry cried, and Draco knew he had him where he wanted him. “Fine, I’ll ask him if he wants to come. But like, no guarantees or anything.”

“Alright,” Draco said with a small smile. “But if he turns down the offer even though you _really_ want him to go, then he sounds like a bit of a jerk, just saying.”

***

Two hours into Luna and Millicent’s party, and Draco still hadn’t met Sydney Perth.

Harry had given Draco various excuses; Sydney was in the bathroom, smoking outside, talking with Granger, and in the bathroom again.

“Sounds like he has a very weak bladder,” Draco observed with a cold smile. “Don’t worry, my grandfather had the same issue in his old age.”

The main conclusion Draco could draw was that Harry just didn’t want to introduce him to Sydney, and even though Draco didn’t particularly want to play nice with Harry’s date, it still hurt that Harry didn’t seem to think Draco worthy of meeting him.

“Gin and tonic,” Draco told the bartender that Millicent had hired for the night. “But hold the tonic.”

The bartender gave Draco an amused smile and slid his order across to him.

Draco took a long sip as he cast his gaze across the room. He couldn’t see Harry amongst the crowd of people, and Draco didn’t particularly want to know where he was if Sydney was involved.

“You look miserable,” a voice commented, and then Anthony Goldstein slid onto the chair next to Draco’s. “Who are you looking for?”

“Just somebody,” Draco answered, not even sparing Anthony a second glance. He didn’t have time for nosy Ravenclaws.

“Maybe you’ve just found them without even realising,” Anthony said teasingly, edging his chair closer to Draco’s so their legs were brushing against each other.

Draco shifted his chair further to the left. “Somebody in particular,” he corrected. “Not you.”

Anthony laughed, despite Draco’s dig at him. “You’re so funny, Draco. You have such a wicked sense of humour.”

“Mmhmm,” Draco muttered, jumping when Anthony’s hand touched his knee. 

“Did you want to go for a walk in the garden?” Anthony asked lowly. “I hear it’s beautiful.”

“No, he doesn’t,” came Harry’s irritated voice. “Go away, Anthony. Sorry, we’re, er, busy.”

Only Harry could apologise to someone he was trying to send away. It seemed to throw Anthony off, at any rate, and he slunk off with a rather confused look on his face.

“What are you doing?” Draco asked as Harry took Anthony’s chair. “I was having a perfectly nice chat with him.”

Harry raised a brow. “Really? It looked like you wanted to punch him.”

That wasn’t far off the truth, admittedly. “So?” Draco said with a scowl, remembering why he had been sulking in the first place. “Why does it matter to you? Don’t you have Sydney to talk to?”

“Seriously, Draco!” Harry exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air. “I thought you were just playing along, but you’re not, are you? Sydney Perth doesn’t exist! I made him up.”

Draco frowned, furrowing his brows as he looked at Harry. “What? Why would you-?”

“To make you jealous,” Harry cut in, cheeks flushing red. Draco’s heart skipped a beat, and it was taking all he had not to grin widely at the revelation. “Draco, I wasn’t entirely truthful with you about my break up with Oliver. Oliver not wanting a big commitment was part of the reason, but he also thought I was too into you...which I kind of am. I had a feeling you were into me too, but then you had all those men round and I got jealous and decided to fake a new boyfriend to try and make you jealous, too.”

“Well it worked,” Draco admitted, not sure whether he should feel stupid or pleased. “Uh, actually, those men I had round weren’t there to sleep with me. They just pretended to so that I could make you think that I was a sex god who’d be able to woo you.”

“What? Really?” Harry’s lips quirked in amusement. “Are you sure? They sounded so genuine.”

“Of course I’m sure I didn’t sleep with them,” Draco answered, shaking his head in bewilderment. “They just put on a fully-clothed show while I read or played Tetris. One time I even did a life painting of a bowl of one of them; I’ll show you it when we get home, if you want.”

Harry nudged Draco’s shoulder affectionately. “What a pair of overly dramatic idiots we are. But, er, if you wanted to show off to me, and I wanted to make you jealous, where does that leave us?”

Draco drew his eyes to the floor, hunching his shoulders as he scuffed the carpet with his shoe. “It wasn’t meant to go down like this, you know. I mean, I know I look good tonight, but I wanted to look _fantastic_. I was going to ask you out to a fancy dinner and to go stargazing, and it was going to be really romantic when I asked.”

“When you asked me what?” Harry asked innocently.

Draco sighed. “If you’ll go out with me.”

“Yes,” Harry answered quickly, and Draco’s eyes snapped to him. “Yes I’ll go out with you. We can even go stargazing tonight, if you wanted.”

Draco’s heart was pounding so fast he could hear it in his ears, as suddenly years of pining hit the peak he’d been dreaming of. 

“But it’s cloudy,” Draco said in panic, taking Harry’s hand automatically when Harry held it out. 

“Come with me,” Harry smiled, leading Draco away from the party and up the stairs.

“Luna’s decorated several guest rooms, and this one is reserved just for me,” Harry explained, guiding Draco into a pitch black room.

“What?” Draco began to ask, until suddenly Harry was illuminated by the twinkling lights of constellation after constellation which were spread across the walls and the ceiling, and if Draco couldn’t feel the ground beneath his feet he’d have easily believed he was in space.

“Sit down,” Harry said, patting a bed with shiny black sheets, the only other thing in the room besides them. “I’m not trying to be forward or anything, by the way. This isn’t like a _sex_ room, it’s for stargazing. I mean, it can be a sex room if you want it to be—which I’m totally down for—but there’s no pressure or anything. I just-”

Draco cut Harry off with a kiss, because that was all Draco could think to do. 

Harry’s lips were just as warm and sweet as Draco had imagined, and tasted of cherry and vodka. Draco wondered if he could get drunk off Harry’s kiss.

Draco would be lying if he said he hadn’t thought about sleeping with Harry. He may have acted like a hopeless romantic, but he was also a young man with a healthy libido and sex drive; if Harry was offering sex then there was no chance Draco was going to turn him down. 

“I want you,” Draco murmured as their lips parted. “All of you.”

Harry smiled; a breathtaking smile that had Draco wondering why he had waited so long for something that was so perfect. They were going to make love under the stars and it was going to be nothing less than wonderful.

Harry kissed Draco deeply, falling back on the bed and bringing Draco with him. Harry’s body was warm and soft under Draco’s, but hard and _real_ at the same time. It was everything Draco had hoped it would be.

Until Draco realised it _was_ real.

And then Draco was far too aware of everything else. Was his weight crushing Harry? What were his hands doing? Were his knees digging into Harry? What if he came in five seconds? What if he didn’t come at all? Could that happen? Was it possible to be hard forever? Would that hurt? Would that make him the ultimate sex god? And did he leave the door unlocked when he left the flat earlier?

“Draco?” Harry’s voice drew Draco out of his reverie sharply. “Are you alright? I’m not rushing things, am I? Do you want to stop?”

“No, no, I want this,” Draco answered quickly. “I’m just...I’ve never done this before.”

Harry’s eyes widened in surprise. “Never?”

“Well I slept with Pansy when we were teenagers but that was a disaster,” Draco admitted quietly. “I ended up calling out your name instead of hers, and I’ve never had sex since.”

Draco expected Harry to laugh at him, but instead he was smiling adoringly. “You’ve really been into me that long? That’s so cute. Draco Malfoy, the hopeless romantic; who knew?”

“Yes, well…” Draco murmured, giving Harry the best smirk he could muster. “I’d also really like to have sex with you, if you’re not too embarassed by my almost virgin status.”

“It’s not embarrassing! It’s sweet,” Harry grinned. “I like that you have a softer side. Now get off me and take off your clothes, then lie flat on the bed. Trust me, I’ll help you get nice and relaxed so you forget your nerves.”

Draco shivered at the promise in Harry’s voice, and he quickly complied with Harry’s request.

Harry stripped as well, which Draco was glad for because he’d have felt a little exposed otherwise. The sight of Harry’s slender body and lovely cock had Draco’s already burgeoning erection quickly becoming fully hard.

Draco settled onto the bed, slowly fisting his length as Harry perched on the end of the bed like a cat watching its prey.

Harry slowly moved up the bed, settling his warm weight over Draco as he kissed him. Harry’s hands ran up and down the length of Draco’s sides, and his mouth moved to Draco’s neck, kissing and sucking the sensitive skin hard before moving down to Draco’s chest.

Harry’s tongue was talented, that was for sure, as he had Draco arching his back in pleasure when he took one of Draco’s nipples into his mouth. The tongue trailed down even further, dipping into Draco’s belly button before teasing the head of his cock.

“Fuck!” Draco cried as wet heat engulfed the head of his erection, and his hands reached down to tug at Harry’s hair as his mouth worked Draco’s length. “Yes! Yes!” 

Harry had been right; all of Draco’s nerves had vanished, replaced by blissful pleasure.

“You like that?” Harry asked teasingly as he pulled his mouth off Draco’s cock, looking up at him through glassy eyes as he trailed his tongue down the length of Draco’s erection and back up again.

“Fuck yes,” Draco hissed, moaning as Harry’s lips parted around Draco’s cock again. 

Draco was lost in a world of wet, hot suction, and he groaned in loss when Harry pulled his mouth away again.

“Do you want to finish like this, Draco?” Harry asked. “Or do you want to fuck my arse?”

Harry’s mouth was a dream, so Draco could only imagine what his arse would feel like.

“Your arse,” Draco said, licking his lips as he felt them go dry. “I want to fuck your arse.”

“Excellent,” Harry smiled, sliding off the bed to go to his clothes, and returning with a small tube of lubricant.

Harry squeezed a generous amount onto his fingers, and leant over the bed as he stretched his arm behind him to finger his own arse open.

Draco desperately wanted to jerk his own cock as he watched, but he didn’t want to make himself too close. He was already bordering on the edge, and he wasn’t going to ruin this by coming in his own hand.

“Here,” Harry said, tossing Draco the lube. “Slick yourself up; make sure you use plenty.”

Draco did as Harry asked, the lube sticky and cold on his fingers, but pleasantly tingly on his cock. 

“Are you ready?” Harry asked, and at Draco’s nod he shifted himself up, settling over Draco’s body. “Hold yourself still for me.”

Draco grasped the bottom of his erection, and threw his head back with a gasp as the hot, tight heat of Harry’s body enveloped his cock. 

If Harry’s mouth had been heaven, his arse was definitely sin. 

“Fuck!” Draco hissed, grasping Harry’s hips desperately as Harry lowered himself until all of Draco’s cock was inside him. “Fuck!” he said again, watching the way Harry’s eyes fluttered closed in pleasure, and how he bit his lip until it was nice and red and begging to be licked.

“God, you feel amazing,” Harry murmured, beginning gentle motions with his hips. “How is it? Is this okay? Do you need me to stop?”

“It’s more than okay,” Draco breathed. “It’s fucking wonderful. Don’t even think about stopping—unless you can’t handle me, of course.”

Draco tried to laugh, but it came out as a breathless moan as Harry’s muscles tightened around him.

“I don’t think you need to worry about that,” Harry grinned, rocking his hips on top of Draco.

Harry picked up the pace, riding Draco wildly until they were both panting and moaning incomprehensible words. Being inside Harry was amazing, to actually be _inside_ him. Sex itself was fantastic, so tight and hot and slick, but having sex with _Harry_ made it even better. Harry actually wanted Draco, and it was that thought that had Draco screaming Harry’s name as he spilled his release inside him.

Harry tugged at his own cock at a few times and he was coming too, before he collapsed bonelessly on Draco’s chest. Draco’s arms came up to wrap around Harry and hold him close, both of them breathless and sweaty, their hearts beating hard and in rhythm. 

“Wow,” Draco said, once he caught his breath back. “Wow.”

“Good, hmm?” Harry smiled, sliding off Draco and collapsing onto the bed beside him. He reached for Draco’s hand, linking their fingers together.

“Better than good,” Draco stated, his mouth aching from the smile he couldn’t seem to hold off. “Worth the wait, I’ll tell you.”

“I’m glad. Although, you know, Draco, there’s one thing I’ve been thinking,” Harry murmured. “How come you decided to fake being a sex god? I don’t come across as sex obsessed, do I?”

“Of course not,” Draco said, a flush creeping onto his cheeks. “Just after your break up with Oliver I overheard you saying to Granger that you, er, wanted a guy who knew how to use his beater or something. I thought I’d stand a chance if I could be that kind of guy.”

There was a moment of silence, and then Harry burst out laughing.

“Oh my god, Draco,” Harry spluttered, sitting up so he could grin at Draco. Draco sat up, too, somewhat confused about what was going on. “I meant a beater as in an electric beater—like a whisk. Muggles use them for baking. I meant that I want a guy who will spend time in the kitchen with me and bake, and go on picnics with me, and do all that cute domestic shit. I’m also not afraid of the word _cock_ , you know.”

“Oh,” Draco said, suddenly feeling very stupid. Damn Muggles and their strange names for things.

“I appreciate you doing it, though,” Harry added reassuringly. “But honestly, I like you for you. I don’t care if you suck in bed—although you don’t, by any means.”

“I’ll do that domestic stuff with you,” Draco said, shrugging. “I might complain about Muggles, but I’ll still do it so I can spend time with you.”

“I’d be worried if you didn’t insult anyone,” Harry smiled, leaning over to kiss Draco gently. “Anyway, let me know when you’re up for round two. I’ve got some fun things to teach you.”

**Author's Note:**

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> 
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